how do you lose someone
in a day, in hours,
in a matter of minutes;
where speculation and heartache
and anger and disgust ferment
in the void left
by the absence of communication?
is it the sin of pride
to chain Hermes?
not to let him out of sight
for his flight could mean
vacillation?
an admittance of weakness;
so that even the tenderest
of loves becomes hard like stone
impervious to woos
indestructible even with
pleas of mercy
not even the Adarna's tears
can revive our atrophied hearts
would it be much easier to forget
than to reconcile?

For what is life but a series of comings and goings
The burying of bones and its exhumation
Forgetting and remembering
A regurgitation of the past, the present its mirror and
A future that is a longing for something that might be
A repetition of the summer and rainy days of youth,
But each repetition the sun blazes much brighter and hotter
And the rains bellowing and wheezing,
Its torrents ever more increasing
Like the angry hand on a dull knife
Cutting frantically onto the thawed piece of flesh
Frustrated and annoyed and tired and weary
Hinged onto the surrender into the absurd
A descend into chaos and a ladder back
To the somber and profound certainty of the eternal.

The watch has ended its usefulness -
Time is on a stand still and every second
Is dragged into a long deafening silence
As each drop multiplies into long synapses,
Until it ceases to exist, and implodes due to its nonexistence.
There is  a quiet disquiet of encased thoughts
Amid the flashing fluorescence of multi-colored
Memories of the heralding of the new dawn,
As the cold contemptuous swings of air
Rushes through the derelict stations the mind,
As a spirit haunting, in search of reason and meaning,
Or in search for a beginning and an end.
Journeying through byzantine conduits
Scouring the space for a panacea for eternal returns.

And I am here in my lonesome
Waiting for ghosts to haunt me in my waking,
I'm itching to hear them drag their heavy footsteps
My ears ring in the absence of their whispers.
Now my heart has stopped, not because of death
But because death has lost its meaning.
I have lost my mind as I have lost my edge
In writing long drawn out sentences
For the consumption of the absurd - an offering
To the deep abyss of thoughts .
I have turned into a dull blade in my futile attempt to cut
Through the dense meat of time and space
Pining for a piece of tender reality
Ghosts are dead, memories have faded,
And all I have left is this profound vacancy.

Remind me of thunders,
Of feverish longing
For the sun's wrath.
Of waves claiming
The shores of a
Perverted land.
When wrought iron gates
Still keep the monsters from
The peoples wrath.
Let the wind air music
That echoes the raucous chant

Remind me of the lightning
Striking the ivory tower.
Of fire and steel
Penetrating shallow *******,
Disturbing the stillness
With our loud footsteps
Heard deep into
Their midnight sleep.

May the uncomfortable sound
Wake them from slumber deep
May the riotous noise excite
The weary, the dead, and the meek
May our fists raised, storm the heavens
And drag it down into the streets.
May the fog that had cloaked the land
Be forever banished into the depths of history
And a new history of men be born
From the crumbling ashes of the old world.

My soul now slowly breaks
Off into the cold nothingness,
The abyss glows ever powerfully
Like a phosphorescent wind,
Glowing like auroras dancing
In the winter skies of my desolation.
And yet I have found meaning
In the darkest of days.
When the clouds of death and chaos
Descends upon me like a raging storm,
Gushing, overflowing, in torrents, tormenting.
In the arms of comrades I gather my strength,
To dismantle the despair eating my lungs,
Keeping me from breathing the stardust
Raining down from the ashes of god
The unholy hour will soon be on its head!

I am not writing about the end of times,
   because the end is near
Or the mere presence of it, out there peeking,
   from the swaying curtains of of the midnight sun
A haunting aura of eternal despair,
  slowly walking towards my mortal shell
Exposing my mortal pretensions, threatening, frightening
I am not writing about the end of times,
I am writing about me as I face annihilation;
   as my soul anticipates the crash, the big bang,
the unceremonious end!